


Mortal Kings Are Ruling Castles

by BabyBalor



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Bottom Roman Reigns, Demon Finn Balor | Prince Devitt, Demons, M/M, Werewolf Roman Reigns, Werewolves, top finn balor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2020-05-07 08:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19205344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyBalor/pseuds/BabyBalor
Summary: But the Demon King rules Finn BalorThe Demon is real, and he wants out. Set at WM35





	1. The Demon and the Dog

_Let me out._  
  
Finn felt the twitch in his back as his trapezius tightened, pulling his shoulder blades together. It was too early for this.  
  
_Let me out. Now._  
  
His muscles twitched again, this time moving his shoulders in a noticeable shrug. Finn covered it by rolling his shoulders down and twisting his neck side to side, making it look like he was just loosening his spine up in anticipation of the evening.  
  
_I'm awake. Let me out!_  
  
_You know the rules. When the paint is on, you come out._ Finn sat up a little straighter, hoping the movement would push the Demon back down into dormancy until it was his turn to sit in the make-up chair. The was the agreement they had come to, him and the Demon. When the body paint was on, the Demon had his time in control of Finn's body. When the paint was washed off again, the Demon had to go back to sleep. He usually was by that point anyway. The fight was always enough to put the Demon back to sleep.  
  
Finn was hyper aware of the involuntary movements he was making. They were all crowded about in the locker room. It served as a holding pen for everyone waiting for hair an make-up, or waiting for a wrangler to fetch them for a segment or ramp-call. The tweaks as the Demon pulled at his muscle fibres made him look jumpy. Twitchy. Nervous for his fight. And that's how he would play it off if anyone asked. The entire roster would think he had lost the plot if he told the truth. Hey, I'm a vessel for an ancient Gaelic demon and he takes over every now and again.  
  
His name was how it had started. When Fergal signed to WWE, he wanted a new persona. Something fresh for the new company, instead of carrying over a stale character from his previous circuit. A new identity for the new chapter in his career. And he was one of the few NXT wrestlers with Irish blood, and he was going to use that to his advantage. He'd started researching Gaelic legends. While trying to piece together something cohesive he'd come across the word Balor. Balor was a tyrant king with one eye that would set fire to anything it looked at. He liked that. An all powerful being that would set the world ablaze. And it had a ring to it. It could be played on. He matched it up with the legend of a hunter warrior, Feinn. Fergal became Finn Balor. He liked it.  
  
But borrowing the Balor's name came with a price. In researching the Demon King, he'd stirred something up that should have stayed undisturbed. That price to be paid was becoming the host vessel for the Demon himself. There wasn't some big event where the spirit of the Demon came up and entered Finn's body in fire and flame and agony. Finn just....woke up one day. Woke up and felt like he wasn't the only thing in his own skin. It was visceral. His size, shape, nothing had changed. But there was an itching beneath his skin that he couldn't understand. He thought maybe he was getting sick, which didn't really bode well for his first few weeks under the new company. He pressed on as normal, taking a couple of anti-inflammatories just in case.  
  
Finn started having blackouts. He wouldn't remember sparring with his new ringmates. He would have gaps in the fights, suddenly finding himself with his arm held aloft by the referee without remembering the moves he'd made to get him there. It took a while to properly make contact with the presence living under his skin. It was difficult to wake it up when it was dormant, and difficult to control when it was awake. But eventually Finn managed it. And eventually the two came to an accord. The Demon chose Finn because it would give him a chance to fight again and let loose the power the Demon had held for centuries. The Demon being awake meant Finn won his fights.  
  
Finn couldn't use the Demon for every fight though. The Demon was tough to control and using him for every fight would get old for the company. The Demon would only come out when Finn had a big fight, one no-one would think he could win. Finn would sit, apply the body paint, and the Demon would wake up. It was an agreement that worked, and the Demon became easier to control.  
  
But tonight, ahead of the big title fight, the Demon was not playing by the rules.

 

* * *

  
Roman could always smell something off about the small Irishman. Nothing noticeable to anyone not in touch with a more animalistic side of themselves. But to Roman it was enough to raise suspicion. Fair enough, the lad kept it well hidden. But he still had that scent about him; a scent of something not entirely human.  
  
Roman had never gotten close enough to get a good smell of it, or to look Finn in the eyes long enough to figure out exactly what it was that caused the smell, the twitches, the unnatural movements in the smaller man's frame. Whatever it was, it was strong. And it was old. It made the Irishman smell....almost musty, when it was near the surface. When Finn was free of the twitching and the smell, he smelt human. Fresh, like he'd just stepped out of the shower, with a hint of dark cologne. But when the thing in him was awake, even with the heavy smell of greasepaint that came along with the presence under Finn's skin, it was telling. There was something there. But Roman just couldn't tell what.  

 

* * *

  
_Why are you so fucking restless today?_ Finn hissed in his own head. Finn has fought at Wrestlemania before. The Demon had fought in matches and pay-per-views and they always stuck to the same rule. You're only out when the paint is on. But the Demon King was clawing at Finn's skin, dying to break out.  
  
_It's that dog._ The Demon's voice curled through Finn's head, wrapping around his spine, sharp and serrated.  
  
_There is no dog in here. What are you talking about?_  
  
_Him_. The Demon snapped Finn's head up to make direct eye contact with Roman. _The dog._  
  
Finn and Roman held eye contact for a solid 30 seconds before Roman kicked away from the wall he'd been standing against and stalked from the room. Before he had a chance to have any kind of influence in the matter, the Demon had picked Finn's feet up and was pulling him after the Big Dog.  
  
Finn could feel himself losing grip on things as the Demon took over control of his body.  
  
_Stop it. Stop. We can't do this right now._ He pleaded.  
  
_Shut up._ The Demon hissed back.  
  
By the time they caught up to Roman, the larger man had turned round to loom over the smaller Irishman.  
  
"You need to get control over this." Roman muttered, voice low, almost a growl.  
  
"Wh-what do you mean?"  
  
Roman said nothing, simply staring harder into the pale eyes of Finn. He was assessing him. Figuring out exactly what is was that was under Finn's skin.  
  
Finn sighed deeply. "Look, Roman.."  
  
"What is it? In there?" Roman squinted slightly as he moved ever closer.  
  
_Tell him._  
  
Finn's head twitched to the left as if he was trying to shake the voice from his ears. "He's a demon. Old Gaelic demon, started taking over when I was in NXT. We have...a deal."  
  
"A deal?" Roman questioned, cocking an eyebrow.  
  
"I'm in control. Most of the time. But when the paint goes on, he gets to wake up."  
  
"Then that thing isn't keeping up it's end of the deal. You need to get a grip."  
  
The Demon hissed at being called "it."  
  
"I have a grip on it." Finn muttered through gritted teeth.  
  
"Bull shit." The larger man scoffed.  
  
Finn's head snapped up with ferocity. "You're the reason he's awake early. For some reason, he wants you."  
  
Again, Roman said nothing. He just stared.  
  
_He's a hound._ The Demon curled in Finn's chest, pooling in his stomach.  
  
"You're a hound." Finn muttered.  
  
"The preferred term is lycanthrope." Roman snapped back.  
  
"Whatever you are, the Demon wants a piece of you." Finn felt the Demon sink lower in his stomach. Dangerously low.  
  
"A piece of me as in he wants to take a chunk out of my neck, or..." By this point, Roman had advanced so close to Finn the words were breath against the Irishman's cheek.  
  
The Demon had gone quiet. Recoiled back into Finn's chest. But not out of fear. The Demon was just waiting.  
  
"No," whispered Finn. "No, he wants to fuck you."  
  
"I cut you a deal then," Roman muttered as he reached up to wrap a hand around the back of Finn's neck. He held the smaller man's head steady and stared into the pale eyes. "You play by the rules tonight, and you can have whatever you want from me."  
  
Finn felt the Demon rumble in his chest again, stirring.  
  
_Deal._


	2. The Demon Wants His Due

  
The Demon did his job. The match against Lashley was won and belt was around his waist. After all the years Finn had spent with the Demon under his skin, Finn was able to lurk in the peripherals these days. In the beginning the Demon would wake up and it was like Finn had been knocked out. Complete K.O. Just a black gap in his memory and a few hours unaccounted for. At first Finn thought he was having seizures. He got as far as arranging an appointment with a doctor to check if he was suffering from an undiagnosed disorder.  
  
That was when he first heard the Demon's voice. At the idea Finn was about to be prodded and poked and put through a handful of medical tests, the Demon stirred and spoke.  
  
_You're not ill. You belong to me now._  
  
Finn's next thought was psychological break. He was a pragmatic man. The idea he was possessed by demon was completely incomprehensible to him. He was hearing voices, seeing things, blacking out. Maybe he was just tired. New job with a lot of travelling and hard working out to keep in physical form. Maybe it was having an effect on his mental state?  
  
_You're not ill. Your mind hasn't gone. My name is Balor. You woke me, and now you're mine._  
  
In his research of Balor, Finn had come across tales of possession. He'd passed them off just fanciful tales, nonsense. But the feeling in his chest, this presence sleeping in his chest.. that he couldn't wave off. Maybe Balor had taken over. The more he fought with the Demon in him, the more he began to believe it. When the Demon fought for him, would win against opponents that would have otherwise beaten him.  
  
As if to prove a point, the Demon allowed Finn's consciousness to be present when the Demon fought. His body was stronger. He reacted quicker. He counted and threw and bounced about the ring with a new fire about him, one Finn just didn't have.  
  
That was what it took to convince Finn that Balor lived within him. And that Balor could be allowed to stay.  
  
Balor was an ancient being; ferocious and powerful, vengeful, willfully strong and hungry for a fight. But he wasn't entirely unreasonable. Slowly Finn had convinced him to at least allow Finn to have some vision left when the Demon was awake. Finn had zero control over what the Demon did when he was awake, but at least he had an idea of what he was up to. The best way Finn could describe it would be like watching a silent movie in a dark room while wearing someone else's glasses. He could make out shapes and movement, the closer to him they were the easier they were to make out. But nothing was fully in focus. Sometimes the vision was clearer, maybe Finn would hear snippets or muffled voices. But sometimes it was worse. More like peering through a frosted window pane. It all depended on how generous the Demon was feeling.  
  
Fuzzy around the edges was how Finn found himself, peering out from the Demon's vision as he landed the Coup de Grace to Lashley's chest. Squinting at the title belt as it was handed to him. Balor liked to show off with the big wins. He'd give Finn a clearer view of what was happening. _Look at me, I won the title against the big guy._ Finn was vaguely aware of the Demon posing for promo photos backstage.  
  
The paint on his body was smeared in places by the end of the match, but not by much. The Demon allowed Finn enough control to clean away what was left of it so they at least looked normal by the time he left the arena.  
  
_Let me back out, Balor. Come on.. Just until we're back to the hotel._ Finn asked nicely. Sometimes asking nicely worked with Balor. Sometimes it was just met with sass.   
  
As the Demon reluctantly relinquished full control of Finn's body back to him, Finn could practically hear Balor rolling his eyes. Finn had to put a hand out to the nearest wall to steady himself, the ache in his muscles finally hitting him. The Demon had really gone for it this evening.  
  
_Fine, but I'm not going to sleep. Not yet._ The Demon hissed, curling around Finn's spine just to prove a point.  
  
Finn shuddered. He would need a lot of deep heat and foam rolling in he morning. And he was unbelievably hungry.  
  
_Not for food.._ The Demon muttered in the back of Finn's skull, moving around his body like smoke. _I want that Dog._  
  
Finn had to keep up the Demon's deal with Roman. The Demon had sat quietly, left Finn alone, right up until he was about to step onto the ramp in full make-up to face the mountain of a man that is Bobby Lashley. And he was starting to get restless, wanting what he had been promised.  
  
Finn, on the other hand, wanted to go to bed. Wrestlemania was a long day for everyone involved.  
  
_You get us to the hotel._ The Demon pulled at Finn's quads, prompting him to walk forward and towards the waiting taxi. _I'll take over. Then we can both sleep._  
  
Finn climbed into the taxi and sat back, letting his eyes drift shut. _Fine, you wake me up when we get there then._

 

* * *

 

  
When Roman opened the door to his hotel room, the grey eyes that looked at him were not Finn. They belonged to Finn's body, but the presence behind them was not the bubbly Irishman. They were darker, pupils barely responsive, yet tracking him with intensity as he stepped to the side wordlessly, inviting them in. He could smell it was the Demon. That musty scent was stronger than before, but not unpleasant.  
  
"So what do I call you?" Roman asked as he swung the door shut. The Demon glided across the carpet of the hotel room, despite the obvious twinges of protest from his legs.  
  
"Balor." The voice was Finn's Irish drawl, but again, it wasn't Finn. There was a deeper, rasping undertone that separated the control of the Demon from Finn.  
  
"Balor." Roman repeated, nodding his head.  
  
Balor kept his gaze fixed on the Big Dog. He was intense.  
  
"Don't you need all that...?" Roman waved a hand in the direction of Balor's chest - Finn's chest - he wasn't sure.  
  
"The paint?" Balor chuckled. "No. That's just something we do for the silly fighting thing."  
  
A low growl rumbled through Roman's chest. "Really? You're going to mock the one thing you seem to be useful for?"  
  
The smile fell from Balor's face. "You have no idea who I really am, do you, pup?"  
  
"I looked you up. I've smelled you. You're old, very old." Roman stepped closer. He towered over Balor. "This isn't your time anymore. Your world is gone. You live in Finn for a reason. I'm assuming it's because of what he does for a job. So you know that the world has changed, and this is likely the best you're gonna get." Roman smirked as he locked eyes with Balor.

"And clearly, so do you." Balor hissed back. "Lycan. Could be out there ripping people to shreds, causing all sorts of trouble..."  
  
Balor reached out and traced a hand across the waistband of Roman's sweats, slipping under the hem of his t-shirt to thumb the dip of his hips.  
  
"And yet, here you are. You've settled for this pantomime of bright lights and choreographed fighting." Balor's hand slipped higher up Roman's stomach. "Why?"  
  
"Control." Roman hitched his chin up, defiant to the taunting. "You learn to control your rage when your opponent has to get back up at the end of it."  
  
"How dull.."  
  
Roman growled again, the animal in his chest growing tired of the Demon trying to wind them up. Roman let his control slip some. He picked Balor up by the waist and threw him backwards. He should have landed on the bed on his back, his knees catching.  
  
But he didn't. Balor was a show off. As Roman threw him through the air, Balor tucked his legs up under him, landed in a crouch in the middle of the bed. He grinned.  
  
"You think you're in charge here?"  
  
Roman stared back in shock. Balor was quicker than he let on. He slowed himself in the ring to keep up the facade of this being a ring persona Finn put on.  
  
"I'm in charge, pup." Balor hissed, poised to leap at Roman.

Roman could feel the hound in him bristle at being called pup. Involuntarily, he growled and bared his teeth slightly. On his human face, it looked more like a grimace than an aggressive display of strength.  
  
On the bed, Balor stretched up to stand. He reached up and removed the t-shirt Finn had thrown on after their shower. Traces of the body paint still lingered, highlighting the definition in their muscles.  
  
Roman swallowed. He'd seen Finn in his wrestling gear plenty of times, and his gear left nothing to the imagination. But like this, the power Balor emanated as he stood there, it made Roman's hairs stand on end. Slowly, he reached down and grabbed the hem of his own t-shirt and pulled it off over his head. He had a feeling this wasn't going to be a clear cut night. There would be a fight for dominance. He could feel the hound in him snapping for the fight, wanting to come out on top.  
  
Balor lowered back down into a crouch, clearly the more natural position. Poised, ready to leap, ready to fight. "Come on then, dog." He hissed.  
  
Roman snarled. He'd had enough of the taunts. He lept forward onto the bed and grabbed at the Demon, trying to wrestle him beneath him. But the Demon was so fast, and cried out a laugh as he flipped the two of them, landing on top, straddling Roman's hips. Roman growled again, trying to lunge up to grab the back of Balor's neck and pull him down. Balor arched his back away to keep him out of reach of the seeking grip of Roman.  
  
Balor understood how pack mentality worked. And Roman was a lone hound here. Balor grabbed both of Roman's wrists and pinned him. Roman fought back, struggled against Balor's grip, trying to regain the upper hand. He managed it, nearly. He pulled his arms off the bed for a moment before the Demon pinned him again with more force than before.  
  
Fuck, this demon is strong.  
  
Balor lunged at Roman's neck, trying to sink his teeth into the tanned skin. Roman yelped and yanked himself away to one side. Balor toppled from where he had been crouched across Roman's hips. The Demon hissed quietly in his throat.  
  
"Come here, dog." Balor lept across the bed again, landing against Roman's side. He lunged in again and nipped at Roman's skin.  
  
Roman wrapped an arm around Balor's shoulders and threw him across his hip to land on the bed.  
  
This wasn't working. If Balor wanted the Big Dog to submit, he had to get him on his back. Exposed. He rolled back over his shoulder and up into another crouch. Fire was being met with fire. Balor had to calm himself. Calculate.

Balor fixed Roman with a long stare. His shoulders twitched as he coiled down into a crouch. Roman stared back, dark eyes meeting pale grey. Balor can wait. He's patient. Holding his crouch, that is what he did. Waited for the hound's guard to lower, momentarily, as Roman went to tie his long hair back.   
  
Balor sprung forward, grabbing Roman by the waist and yanking him down onto the bed and pinning him again. Before Roman was able to counter, to fight back, Balor sunk his teeth into his shoulder. It was a hard bite to the meaty join between Roman's neck and shoulder. It wasn't enough to break the skin but it was enough for Roman to yelp. A looseness shot through Roman's body, letting his muscles go lax against the Demon's grip.  
  
Submission.   
  
The Dog was his.


	3. The Demon Collects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a hot minute, lads. My bad. Life and that.

3.  
  
Now, what you need to remember is Roman isn't a natural submissive. He has spent a short time as a beta in a pack, way back when he was a teenager. But as he got older and his alpha instincts started coming to the forefront he had had an almighty scrap with their pack leader and lost. He was cast out and became a lone wolf in his early 20s. Since then, he'd been solo. The only semblance he'd had of pack life was with Seth and Dean in the Shield. It wasn't a proper pack, as neither of them were like him, but it was damn near close enough. Because they weren't like him they hadn't fallen into line the way a pack would, hadn't obeyed his alpha command like a pack would, hadn't fit the pack dynamic. It wasn't what he'd grown up with but it was still his pack. When that fell apart, he was a lone wolf again. Stalking about backstage.  
  
And then Finn happened.  
  
And here was that Demon-man hybrid, straddled across him with sharp teeth sinking into his neck and Roman could do nothing but yelp and submit to him. He went pliant beneath the smaller man's hands and let himself be manhandled over onto his front. Roman was sure the Demon had broken the skin and that was going to be a job to explain in the morning. But at that moment in time, Roman was all too happy to be pushed and pulled and moved by Balor until his knees were tucked up under him and his face was pressed against the mattress.  
  
"When was the last time you were under someone else's control, hm?" Balor muttered in Roman's ear, his voice low. "Maybe I'll get you a collar next time. Keep you on a leash."  
  
Roman growled quietly, an instinctual reaction. It wasn't a threatening growl by any means. Just a quiet acknowledgement that yes, you're in control but no, I'm not entirely out for the count. Roman pushed up slowly with his hands until he was on all fours.  
  
"Well now you do look like a proper hound." Balor grinned. There was little ever humour in the Demon's smile. It was a grimace, a smug grin, or a flash of teeth as more of a threat. This grin was the former of the three.  
  
Roman's eyes stayed trained to the Demon as he stood and stalked about the room. Balor moved in a different way to Finn when upright. The body was the same, but it flowed smoother when Balor was in control of it - the calculated movement of a thousand-years-old demon trying to keep the human form as natural looking as possible. But he still slipped. Here and there Balor's shoulders would twitch and spine would twist slightly. The Demon's urge to drop down onto all fours and crawl in the animalistic crouch he was comfortable in. As Roman watched, Balor lifted one hand to the sweatpants still sitting on Roman's hips. They had gotten torn in their tussle - a small rip in the waistband that left one side of his hip just peeking through. Balor reached out and drew a finger to it. The hole was big enough for him to hook two fingertips in and pull, tearing the fabric apart across the back. Roman growled louder.  
  
"What, dog? Are you upset I've ruined your clothes?" Balor smirked and traced his nails across Roman's backside.  
  
"No, annoyed I have nothing to wear when we're done here." He grumbled.  
  
Balor chuckled and landed a heavy smack to one cheek. "How innocent of you to think you're leaving any time soon."  
  
Roman bit at his bottom lip. The Demon was going to play rough with him.

* * *

Roman's sweatpants were in tatters around his hips and knees. Balor had ripped them apart to expose Roman's entire ass and the back of his thighs, and was landing sharp slaps to the bare skin as Roman buried his face into the crook of his elbow. Every few slaps, Balor would stop to trace his fingertips lightly over the reddened skin.  
  
"Fuck.." Roman muttered into the bedsheets as Balor landed another blow.  
  
Balor reached forward, grasping the knot of hair at the nape of Roman's neck. "Don't hold the noise back, hound. I like it when I can hear you." Balor pulled Roman's head to one side, exposing a long swathe of neck the Demon sank his teeth into. Roman groaned. The bite marks were beginning to bruise.

"You're going to have to explain those to make-up.." Roman grumbled.

"Oh? Then why are your hands fisting into the bedsheets?" Balor smirked and pulled Roman's head to the other side, dragging his teeth against the skin. 

 _Do his teeth feel sharper?_ Roman wondered as he looked down. His hands were, indeed, grasping at the bedsheets as Balor bit into his skin. He groaned. 

"You're going to kneel there, pup, and you're going to do as I say." Balor's words curled into Roman's ears. 

Roman shuddered. Hard. 

* * *

Finn felt groggy. He always felt groggy when the demon finally gave him control back. But his grogginess may have also had something to do with the face Finn had just passed out for a full 12 hours. The quiet blue light of the alarmclock on the bedside table alerted Finn to the full extent of his sleep. 

"Fuck.." Finn muttered and went to run a hand over his face to rub the sleep from his eyes, only to find his arm trapped. " _Fuck_." 

Finn looked up. His arm was draped over the chest of Roman, who had him pinned. One arm around Finn's waist, one holding his hand. 

"Morning." Roman had a smile to his voice that hadn't quite reached his expression.

"Uh. Morning... Well, afternoon." Finn chuckled. "So... last night-?" 

"Was an eye opener, for sure." Finally Roman let go of Finn's hand. "You really do crash out after Balor lets you back in, don't you? Always wondered why you slept so hard between shows."

"Balor?" Finn raised an eyebrow. He propped his chin up on Roman's chest to look him in the eye. "On first name terms with him already, are you?" 

"Well he did spend all night fucking me. Nice to have the soft Irishman back." 

"I guess in comparison to him I am soft." Finn sighed softly and laid his head back in Roman's chest. "You can't let on about it.."

Roman squeezed Finn's waist. "I've kept my own secret this long. I'm sure I can handle yours too."


End file.
